Inviting The Virgin (Old Version)

Inviting The Virgin (11)

“Rise and shine bitches,” Voices faintly shouted while my body jolted from under the sheets of an unfamiliar bed. Loud bangs echoed across a hallway rattling my skull. A sharp pain pulsated near both my temples while I struggled to open my eyes.

            I groaned rolling over taking in my surroundings. I was in an unfamiliar room with posters covering every wall. Rolling off the bed I let the sheets fall to the floor. My feet touched the hard wood floor lightly while I maneuvered passed a couch and towards the door. Opening the door light streamed through windows. I squinted my eyes while I tried to find my way back to the twirled stairs.

            “And what dark hole did you crawl out of?” Sandra snickered watching my agonizing attempt to navigate my way through this house.

            “Lurking in the dark?” I questioned her barely seeing her emerge from a hallway.

            “It’s the morning sunshine,” She snickered—“So where did you come from. You obviously weren’t in your room because I would have seen you coming down the stairs not that hallway. That hallway unparticular,” Sandra took a couple steps forwards while I leaned on the closest wall.

            “I don’t remember much,” I told her while, I, myself struggled to comprehend what occurred only a couple hours ago.

            I had never had a headache like this one. Light bothered me, sound bothered me and even when my footsteps hit the ground to hard.

            “You look like shit,” She laughed hollowly.

            I gave her the best smile I could before continuing up the stairs. The spiral of the stair case almost made me throw up. Slowly I made it to my room watching Nancy gather up the hung over group of girls out of their beds.

            “What the hell is going on?” Mimi shouted from in our room.

            She was searching just like the first time we met. I assumed that this time she was searching for me. Her blonde curls were tangled and droll was making its way down her face. Without acknowledging her I stumbled into the washroom having the urge to throw up. Instead I starred at myself in the mirror.

            My face was blotchy, my hair was everywhere and it seemed as if the substance staining my shirt was vomit. My eyes were red and puffy and overly unattractive. Standing there I tried to remember what happened last night but most of it was blurry. Some information was clear, some hazy and others seemed erased completely.

            “Breakfast time,” Nancy poked her head in seeing that both of us were up and ready to go already.